Day 2238

My fitness tracker has decided that I'm sleep deprived and has started sending me all sorts of friendly tips on how to get more sleep. Leave me alone fitness band. You should be happy that I'm still getting in a lot of steps. I don't need to know when to eat my dinner or how to relax. I'd sleep like a baby if I didn't have to clean up dog poop in the middle of the night. I've gotten so good at predicting when Dot is going to have an accident that last night I got up to check on her and was pleased to see that it was just a false alarm. I went to the bathroom, and on my way back to bed, I smelled a familiar smell. Yep. She pooped while I was in the bathroom. Dot was still asleep in exactly the same position as she was thirty seconds earlier, but there was a little dark pile about six inches away from her on the rug. How did she even do this. I cleaned up the mess and went back to bed.

My favorite machines were broken when I went to the gym today. I substituted twenty minutes on the rowing machine for the hand bicycle and discovered further evidence that my shoulder injury is getting worse. I used to be able to stay on the rowing machine forever without much discomfort. Not anymore. Ouch! I did another obligatory twenty minutes on the treadmill with the elevation set as high as I could. That was it. My heart wasn't really in it today. I didn't use any of the other machines at all and spent the rest of my time shooting baskets. I always wonder about consistency when I'm shooting free throws. My hands and body know what to do by now, but still it's is very hard to get more than five baskets in a row. Hey, even NBA players miss a free throw now and then. It would seem like it wouldn't be that hard to lift your arms and constantly push a ball the thirteen feet it needs to travel to reach the eighteen inch hole above the basket. Apparently, getting hand-eye coordination and muscle memory all working together is much harder than it seems. I am getting better though. Consistency is a worthy goal.

I didn't even bother to vacuum the house when I got home from the gym. The dogs were sleeping peacefully and Janet was already cooking dinner. Vacuuming would have disrupted things. I have the entire upcoming week to vacuum the house. I'm sure I'll be able to find a time when the noise won't bother anybody.

When I checked on my missing package on the FedEx website, I noticed that the delivery date had changed from yesterday to "pending." There wasn't a delivery date listed at all. I guess this either means that the package is lost or that the Fedex employees have lost interest in continually scanning the bar codes of everything they touch. It must get old to have millions of things to deliver and all the recipients want to know exactly where these package is at any given moment in time. Maybe it was better in the old days when the postman just left packages randomly next to your front door whether you were expecting them or not. I need to find a twelve step program for people who track things too much. I track everything from the positions of the planets in the sky to the number of calories I burn each day. I know it doesn't matter, but I'm curious about these things.

I'm not very curious about politics. I'll be very glad when the Iowa Caucuses are over tomorrow night. I can't even turn on the TV anymore without hearing endless commentary and speculation about the Iowa Caucuses. Do these things even matter? I don't think the Iowa Caucuses have actually predicted a winner for a long, long time. Maybe all the candidates from both parties should just put their name in a hat and let a blindfolded Kim Kardashian pick the winner. I guess the real question is in a field that includes an avowed socialist, a guy who is best know for telling people "you're fired," two Cubans, a heart surgeon with no political experience, and a woman who could be indited at any minute for playing fast and loose with national secrets, what the word winning really means. If any of these folks win, we all lose.

Cooper is today's Dalmatian of the Day

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